Richard Hays, New Testament scholar and one of the critical influences in my life, passed away on January 3 in Nashville, Tennessee. Today is a memorial service for Richard at Duke University. If I could be there and say something it would be this.

I spent 17 meaningful years in grassroots justice and social healing ministry in Mississippi. When my wife Donna and I departed in 1998, it put me in a wilderness. But a question from a trusted counselor guided me: “What idea of the future fills you with joy?” To study. That idea filled me with joy. To go to seminary. To bring theological language and meaning to my Mississippi years and develop an intellectual framework for my next chapter of service. Wow. That was a life-giving vision.

Donna and I visited many seminaries, and we settled on a seminary and a city with great excitement. Donna looked forward to serving there as a nurse and began a job search. We looked for apartments. We prepared our three young children for the move.

While this was happening, we visited two mentors in San Francisco, John and Judy Alexander. John listened to our plan. And then he blew it up.

“Don’t go there. That seminary will screw you up. You need to go to Duke Divinity School. I have friends there who will take care of you.”

John’s blunt advice would change the course of our lives. We did end up in Durham, where Donna and our three young children flourished. And I did end up at Duke.

Lo and behold, Richard Hays was one of the friends John spoke of. Richard and I quickly bonded due to John, and our common experience of living in Christian community, and Donna and I enjoyed meals with him and his wonderful wife Judy.

In the classroom I received the immense gifts of the public Richard, his eloquent and prophetic scholarship and teaching.

But Richard most took care of me as my boss, when he was Dean of Duke Divinity School and I was Director of the Center for Reconciliation. When the world and even the church began to tire of “reconciliation,” Richard insisted Christians could not leave behind this costly call to deep transformation of the world that he believed was at the center of the New Testament vision(see his short article here). “Duke Divinity School should not have a center for reconciliation,” Richard often said. “It should be a center for reconciliation.” That was a pretty preposterous aspiration for a university and its volatile faculty politics. Yet I witnessed Richard embody that vision in many tense meetings.

But it was the private Richard, meeting in his Dean’s office, from whom I received gifts more precious than the public ones. His gentleness. Humility. Pastoral presence. As a leader, his sensitivity to the Spirit in the life of school. And his deep insight into how the Spirit was at work in me in ways which empowered me and sent me forward with courage. Richard loved Jesus, and I experienced the spirit of Christ in him. And the voice of Christ.

The moment when Richard most profoundly took care of me was a meeting when I was going through a wilderness about my work and calling as director of the Center. At one point after listening to my angst, he turned to me and looked me in the eye. Speaking softly, through a series of questions, he helped me see who I was not. And then, in concise biblical language, he told me who I was, what he believed was my primary identity and call. That “word” shocked me with insight and love. It still guides me each day as I discern where to direct my life and energy.

That year, Richard’s “word” was a key moment in my part of the journey that led me and Donna from Durham to serve with Mennonite Central Committee in South Korea for five years across the divide between the two Koreas. Richard saw deep into my heart and soul. After ten rich years with the Center, his “word” helped me let go of Duke while sending me out from and in communion with Duke, as an ambassador, and as his friend.

“I have friends who will take care of you,” said John. What a gift, the divine interruptions in our lives. Thank you, God, for surprising us with people who take care of us beyond what we could ever ask for or imagine. Thank you for the people you give us who reveal our deepest and truest identities to us. Most of all, today, thank you for your deep love for Richard, which he passed into me. I’m quite sure I’m not the only one.

Chris Rice is an award-winning writer, social entrepreneur, and global networker dedicated to fostering social healing and spiritual renewal. His books include Reconciling All Things: A Christian Vision for Justice, Peace, and Healing, and From Pandemic to Renewal: Practices for a World Shaken by Crisis.